


Even in this Day & Age...

by Bahamut255



Category: Cinderella (1950), Cinderella (2015), Cinderella - All Media Types
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-12 05:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5654659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bahamut255/pseuds/Bahamut255
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...there is still Magic, still miracles.  If only you have, the Courage, and Kindness, to see it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Once, in a small but prosperous Kingdom, there lived a man of Good Fortune. Oliver Tremaine was born into a general lack of wealth. But with his sharp mind, strong perception of the needs and wants of the people, and a start-up loan, he built for himself a small empire. The name Tremaine soon became synonymous with well-built luxurious carriages, coaches, and personal transportation, his Steamer Cars in particular were well received by the Elite. Fast, quiet, refined, and much easier to live with than the current crop of internal combustion vehicles, the recently-introduced Condensers permitting much-greater range than anything else in their class. 

This surge in his fortunes made possible his relocation to an immense château, located some twelve miles from the nearest city where his main production line remained, a stream where the water was pumped from set in the woodlands behind the rear garden. A stable still standing strong from a time when horse-and-carriage was the way to go, one he made use of for recreational pursuits. Electricity and Gas were brought into the home, the latest in cooking and heating appliances, staff enough to keep its condition pristine. 

And then came the love of his life. The wondrous Elise. From this marriage came the second Great Joy he came to know, a beautiful daughter they named Eleanor, Ella they called her. The next five years saw Tremaine Coaches grow in leaps and bounds, while his every free moment was spent with his wife and daughter. 

Then came the Pain, the Grief. It happened slowly at first. Moments of tiredness and lack of energy, and dismissed as such. It only grew worse and the doctors who visited prescribed rest and relaxation, attributing her condition to her many waking hours and lack of time to herself. Finally, Elise Tremaine was taken to the local hospital where Exploratory Surgery was conducted, and a plethora of abnormal growths were discovered, far beyond any ability to put right, all that could be done for her anymore, was to make her final days as comfortable as possible. Oliver would take an extended leave from his work, his deputy of ten years managing affairs in his absence while he remained at her side every moment that remained. 

Permitted to return home to Die there, in a brief window where the excessive painkillers numbed her agony without clouding her mind, Elise would speak with her daughter one last time. 

“Eleanor, dear.” She managed to choke out, and even then Ella knew that this would be their last time together. “I have, something to tell you, that will see you, through the, Trials of Life. Have Courage, and be Kind. For Even, in this Day and Age. There is still Magic, still miracles. If only you have, the Courage, and Kindness, to see it. And you have more, in just one finger, than many will have, in their, whole bodies, my dear, Eleanor.” Elise’s eyes closed when she finished, never to open again. 

\----------------

With the loss of his beloved Elise, Oliver Tremaine began to bury himself into his work, hoping to use it and the time he could spend with Ella to keep him from the clawing pain in his chest. Yet it dawned even on him that he was spending far too little time with her, and the servants could only do so much to make up for that. Soon, he concluded that she needed a mother figure to help with her growth. So close to two years after, he chose for his second wife, a widowed lady of good standing with two daughters only slightly older than Ella herself. Though from the aristocracy and a man like Oliver Tremaine perceived as a step down, his being New Money and her need to secure her future and that of her own daughters put aside such concerns as she accepted his Hand in Marriage. 

The next two years were peaceful enough, the income still flowed and life began to return to normalcy. True, Lady Tremaine did favour her own daughters over Ella, but she never made it known, at least not obviously. Being third in the line for treats and gifts, a little less leeway given to her. Small things that escaped notice, and Ella still had her father so she never saw need to raise any concerns she might have had. 

It would be a disaster that would mark the end of Ella’s once-easy life. A roof collapse at the production lines that Oliver was inspecting at the time. By the time they pulled him free the following day, it was clear that even if they’d found him the moment after the roof fell, he would never had stood a chance. The first chunk of iron having pierced his chest on the left side. It would later be determined that sub-standard metals and practices had been used in the previous repair work made, and the whole factory had to be closed while the ceiling was effectively rebuilt. 

The eleven year old Ella had now lost both her parents, and Lady Tremaine had lost both her husbands. And the latter was the one to feel the sting the most. True, so long as his company remained intact, she would continue to receive royalties from the sales, but the extended shutdown had allowed competitors to make their way in and steal some market share. Furthermore, in the years since Internal Combustion had seen marked improvements in efficiency and refinement, electric starter motors removing their old bugbear. Add in Oliver’s old deputy lacking the same skill and finesse as his old boss, and it was clear that Tremaine Coaches was in serious trouble. 

The fading income required the taking of economies by the Tremaine Household. Slowly, the staff saw themselves dismissed from service, the cleaners and gardeners first, with Ella taking over their work. Next came the cooks and maids once Ella was able to manage their work as well. By 1922 when Ella was a young adult, Tremaine Coaches was defunct, all the staff had long since left. Ella herself had been stripped of all her luxuries, her maid dresses mostly torn and scuffed as she found herself forced to sleep in the unheated attic. The wealth Oliver left behind funnelled into the wants of Lady Tremaine’s increasingly awkward daughters. 

Yet in spite of her cruel treatment, Ella still held onto the last words of her mother. And she still found a few small joys that helped her through the long hard days. Chief among them being Galahad, the Percheron horse that her father had bought as a gift for her the month before his untimely demise. Which to her credit, Lady Tremaine did cede some ground to in permitting Ella to keep him, on the strict stipulation that Ella would have the sole responsibility for his care. Being able to take him out for exercise when the chores were few enough to permit, and having someone to talk to, it helped Ella to cope with her lot in life. 

The final piece of happiness Ella found rested behind the château, even rusted over through eleven years of neglect, only one working door, the leather benches torn and faded, and now missing a window. The Tremaine Steamer Family Car Model A that rolled off the production line on the day she was born. Back when 35 mph was the best that could be sustained and 50 was the best that could be attained. The first to have the driver and passengers contained in the same compartment under the same roof. And a place where Ella could be alone when she needed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between myself, Aryasnark, and FairyGodRelative, three parts of a 1920's AU CInderella Story were made, and I've decided to make a full-length story based on the 1920's World. 
> 
> Since "One Missed Chance" is still being worked on, updates won't be as frequent unless I hit a block with one or the other. 
> 
> This first chapter is to provide some background, to show where and why everything in this story has reached the point where it has, at least with regards to the Tremaine Household. And if you have a sharp enough eye, you'll be able to tell where inspiration and ideas have been drawn from with respect to names and certain events which have already occurred here. 
> 
> Not sure how long it'll be before more chapters arrive, but I do intend to see this through to its conclusion.


	2. Chapter 2

An arm flailed over the bedside table before it clamped over its target. Without the ringing drone to grate at her, Ella - nicknamed Cinderella by her ’family’ - could clear the haze from herself and start waking up properly. 

“Alright alright I’m up already.” Was her groggy complaint to the alarm clock that forced her away from her dream at just before Five in the morning. 

Little more than five hours of sleep was nothing new to Ella Tremaine, though the lack of rest had already started taking its toll on her twenty-two year old body. A few lines already formed under her eyes and her frame quite thin. Her reason for waking herself so early was not only to secure additional time to perform all the tasks allotted her, but to have at least a small piece of each day to herself. Her stepmother and stepsisters wouldn’t wake for a long while yet and she could go at her own pace until then. 

Until then, she could give herself a quick scrub down before getting dressed, quickly given that the Attic that was her bedroom for some years now lacked the heating most of the rest of the château enjoyed, the maid’s uniform she had to make good with frayed at the edges but still serviceable. Leaving the shoes off until she was down the flights of stairs and at the kitchen where the clothes from the previous day’s washing marathon had used the lingering heat to dry off. 

“I suppose I’ll start with you then.” Ella decided, not a hard choice seeing how much space they were taking up, barely enough left to squeeze by until she started pulling them off the rungs and folded them into the waiting baskets. With room to breathe now, Ella fired up the gas hobs, one for the kettle and one for the iron’s hot plate for later. 

With the few minutes she had before they’d be ready, Ella left for the still-dark garden to make sure the few animals kept would at least have something to eat today, if nothing else. Also taking the chance to take the eggs laid which would see them through the day. In the stable she took more care, with Galahad still sleeping she didn’t want to startle him, the noise he sometimes made when he was being enough to wake her stepfamily early, which would mean repercussions for Ella. Thankfully she knew just how to fill the trough quietly and was out with nary a peep. 

Which gave Ella time enough to enjoy a hot drink and cereal before she needed to begin work. 

\----------------

With just over half of it done, Ella had barely enough time to make the more elaborate breakfast demanded by her Stepfamily and set it on the breakfast table before they were upon it at just before Seven. Ella herself long since forbidden from eating with them. 

“Now then, Cinderella.” Her Stepmother used the nickname given to her by Drizella. “Your tasks for today: As well as finishing the clothes from yesterday, I expect you to have the gardens, both front and back, cleaned, tidied, and fit to be seen. The same with the hallways, and I expect you to not fall behind with your usual tasks as a result. Is that understood?” 

“Yes, Stepmother.“ Ella noted that as usual she may have had a smile on her face, but it never reached her eyes. 

“Good. Now it’s time for the music lesson, there will be no interruptions until it is complete.” Lady Tremaine closed with her stern warning before returning to her own bedroom to change. 

\----------------

Late-Morning saw Ella finally finish with the front garden. The cutters to bring the grass down to size, that and the falling leaves raked into a pile for the compost heap later when opportunity permitted, the few weeds that clung on with them. On the surface it was actually more than presentable. Ella lacked the time to finish the rear garden before lunch was to be ready, but she could at least see that the grass was trimmed and Galahad’s stable was cleaned out for him. 

“Why do I put up with this?” Ella asked both herself, and Galahad who stood nearby. “Where is there to go? And I wouldn’t be able to take you either. You’re legally the property of Lady Tremaine as she’s Head of the Household, if I tried, that would be theft. The penalty for that is harsh.” 

Once the new layer of straw was set Ella picked up where she left off. “It’s been close to ten years since I saw the world past the garden, the woods, the city, what’s it like out there I wonder?” A wistful sigh escaped her as she led Galahad back into his stable. “I’ll see if I can get you out tomorrow Galahad, get you some exercise. But I‘ll need to wait until they‘ve had their…‘music’ lesson” She promised him with a gentle scratch behind his ears, a snort leaving him at her comment on their talents. 

Preparing lunch gave Ella her sole window to life outside her own. The radio that played the music and delivered the news a simple luxury she could have as she worked if her stepfamily didn’t object. 

“And in other news, the Prince Christopher Charmont has returned from his long oversees mission, word from the Royal Palace reports that he is in good health and ready to return to his duties in the Court.” The announcement from the radio caught her attention. 

“Lucky him.” Ella remarked. “Seeing the world far and wide. They really must have the best of times.” 

\----------------

“Well then? What’s my condition?” The tired croak of King Pierre demanded. 

“Well, um, I…believe that…uh…” His personal doctor stuttered, trying to find the right words. 

“Never mind. If you’re having that much trouble finding a way to say it, then the answer is obvious.” The ailing King cut in. “How long do I have?” 

“Not long.” He admitted after another awkward pause. “A few good weeks is all I can assure you of.” 

“Then, I had best make use of them.” King Pierre rose with some effort, leaving his personal chambers with his doctor in tow, to be joined by his close confidant the Grand Duke. 

As they made their way through the cavernous hallway, they passed a number of portraits of past and present members of the Royal Family. Mainly Oil Paintings but the odd Watercolour presented itself. Here the King paused to gaze on them. 

“You are aware that I would have preferred to have received word of my son’s arrival from the proper couriers first?” He asked the Grand Duke rhetorically. “But that is not the main concern. He still hasn’t settled on a good choice of Wife, and time is fast running short.” 

The Grand Duke had no answer for his Friend and King, but the Truth they both knew was that with the advent of Radio permitting information to travel faster than was ever possible, the standard methods had lost their advantage in speed. “Then what should be done about it?” He instead chose to keep the focus of their discussion on the matter of the young Prince. 

“There are a few Choice Candidates I wish for him to meet, perhaps if they can all be brought together so he can’t Duck the Issue.” 

“A Royal Ball then?” The Grand Duke began to work out what his King was planning. “Yes. That could work. Rather well.” 

“When is the earliest it can be held?” 

“If we go by the numbers, perhaps two weeks.” The Grand Duke did the Math in his head. “But with a little extra work, it could be trimmed to ten days.” 

“Then let us make it so.” The King, once he had made a decision, would be extremely hard-pressed to deviate from his chosen course. “There is much to be done.” 

“Your Majesty? Perhaps I should take care of the particular affairs?” The Grand Duke began carefully. “With your health as it is, it would be best that you take as much rest as you can, and be in the best condition when the night arrives.” 

“I have to agree with his recommendation.” The Kings Doctor finally joined in their discussion. “You really do need to keep the stresses on yourself, both physical and mental, to a minimum.” 

King Pierre thought long and deep, his thumb stroking his bearded chin a sign that all his attention was on the matter. “Very well then. I’ll leave the matter in your hands old friend.” He finally relented. 

“You will not be disappointed.” The Grand Duke promised him. 

With the King’s Health in decline, the Grand Duke had found himself needing to tackle more and more of the day-to-day affairs to help keep the monarch in good shape. A role that he had been growing accustomed to. For his lifelong friend, for his Kingdom. He would see to it that the Wife for Kit would be one that would be in the interests of both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a bit of info to set up the world, but the story itself is starting to move along now. 
> 
> Hope you're all liking it so far. ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

It was two days later when Ella was finally able to take Galahad from his stable, and then only because she had managed to build a big enough lead on her chores to spare the time. But now that lunch had been taken care of she could give him his exercise, her trips through the woods though infrequent did at least grant her a recollection of which routes to take. With a little over two hours, she couldn’t spend as much time as she wished, but even this was enough of a break from her monotonous life to lift her spirits. Perhaps it was her elated sense that caused her to not notice the stag until they almost crashed into it. 

It was Galahad’s shrill neigh and rearing back that smashed Ella back into reality, barely re-securing her grip before she could be thrown off. In turn letting her calm him down enough so he stood where he was. The sound of others nearby, the mention of gunfire drove Ella into action. 

“Hurry. Go. Now.” Ella commanded the stag, keeping her voice down to keep others from finding him. Luckily for the stag, he seemed to get the message as he turned and made his way deeper into the woods, well off the beaten track. Once Ella was certain he was safe she guided Galahad to a trot in the other direction. 

Which a minute later sent her into the path of another. 

“You know Miss, you really shouldn’t be alone in these woods.” The new arrival called to Ella as they began to circle one another. 

“But I wasn’t alone.” Ella replied, being with Galahad making that statement true. “But by your reckoning, neither should you.” 

“And neither was I, I’ve simply become separated from my group.” He answered in turn, taking a few moments to look over her. “I’ve seen you before.” He added, recalling when they first met. 

“Yes, we did. Last Summer, was it not?” 

“Indeed. We didn’t get a chance to speak though.” 

“So why are you here?” 

“Hunting exercise.” 

“Hunting?” Ella pressed the matter, now noticing the rifle by his side. 

“Of course, as it’s always been. Though it seems that the target is lost now.” He looked around, no trace of the stag. 

“Perhaps, but is it what should be done?” Ella probed, not approving of such things. 

“You know. I’ve never though of it that way before.” He admitted. “You could be right.” 

“I might.” Silence reigned for a moment before she changed the topic. “Last time, I never did get your name.” 

“Oh! That’s right!” He almost jumped at the realisation. “Well my father calls me Kit, when it’s on his better days. I’m, learning his Trade from him, at the Palace.” Kit informed Ella, giving as much as was true without revealing more. 

“As in an, Apprentice?” Ella deduced. 

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Kit confirmed the fact. “If I may ask, what is your name?” 

“My name…” She didn’t get a chance to finish as another approached, clearly searching for someone. 

“There you are! Your…” A dark-skinned uniformed man upped his pace to reach them. 

“Kit! It’s Kit! I’m Kit!” Kit cut him off, thankful he didn’t need to look at the lady who would have seen the worry on his face in an instant had she the chance. 

“Alright then, Kit.” The new arrival finished with a little humour. “Let us be off, we need to return to the Palace now.” 

“Very well then.” He started to turn, before facing Ella once more. “I hope to see you again. Whenever that might be.” 

“And I as well.” Ella returned the compliment, staying where she was and watching Kit and the other one leave, waiting a minute more before commanding Galahad to start walking again. 

Returning home at a gentle pace, Ella couldn’t help but think back to her all-too-brief encounter with Kit. 

“Such a gentleman, if a little, um, hostile to certain types.” Ella murmured to herself, not noticing the snort Galahad gave. “But still rather sweet, such a good heart.” A louder one did bring Ella out of her musing and turn her attention to the source. 

“You don’t like me talking about him? Jealous?” Ella teasingly accused, a playful scratch behind the ears indicating to him that she wasn’t being serious. 

“But now it’s back to work I’m afraid.” Ella shifted the subject, the knowledge of what awaited bearing down on her. “That’s why we have to enjoy these moments when they come, they’re all we have, they’re all we ever get. All too few of them.” Ella encouraged him when the château came into view. 

\----------------

The following day, while Ella toiled away at her assigned chores, the Prince Kit was in turn busy with his. The difference being the tasks in question, as while Ella was focused on the windows inside and out, Kit was learning the use of the sword, the thin blade suited for the Fencing Lessons he was receiving this day with the Captain of the Guard as his sparring partner. Usually a skill he excelled in but this day his mind wandered, oft-drifting over to the memory of the lady whose name he knew not, thus providing openings for his partner to exploit, the opposing blade now resting on the side of his neck. 

“Wake up Your Highness, you’re dreaming.” The Captain made clear to him his reason for his rare win. “Had I been a real foe, that would have been the end of you.” 

“Sorry about that, Cornelius.” Kit apologised to the Captain, and friend. “It’s just that, I can’t get her out of my mind.” 

“The mystery girl?” Cornelius queried as they left the room, the others slowly ending their own respective rounds. “You’ve only just met.” 

“And the time before.” Kit pointed out. “There’s, something about her. Her spirit, her grace, her goodness. And I still know nothing else of her.” 

“But the Ball is coming soon, perhaps she might attend?” 

“Perhaps, but we both know why my father is having it held.” Kit reminded him. 

“True enough, but His Majesty…” He trailed off, there was no need to speak of what he was getting at. “…but the invitations are yet to be sent.” He added as an afterthought. 

“You know, you’re right.” The Captain’s statement giving Kit an idea. “I know what to do.” 

\----------------

Later, once lunch and a new uniform had been taken care of, Kit was seated on a frame designed to resemble a horse and saddle. A Repeating Rifle resting on his arm. The painter shifting his gaze between the canvas and him, endeavouring to make every minute detail devoid of flaw. 

“These portraits, there are to be sent abroad ahead of the Ball?” Kit asked his father, keenly aware of the Grand Duke ever present at his side, and especially of his father’s physician standing aside him, black bag in hand. All the information he needed to know that all was not well. 

“As is tradition, as is beloved, as is when you will choose a Bride.” The King confirmed the facts. 

“Fascinating. And were I to choose a good honest country girl?” Kit made his move. 

“And how much would this ‘good honest country girl’ cost us? How would she be able to make the Kingdom stronger?” The Grand Duke cut in. “Ours is a small kingdom, surrounded by powerful states, with our Trade and Treaties keeping their hostile tendencies at bay. One wrong move is all that is required to bring it all down, as a mere handful of years back should make clear.” 

“I wish for you, and the kingdom to be safe.” The King added his own reasons. 

“Very well Father, but I have a condition. Extend the invitations to all, not just the Elite. The war you speak of brought sorrow down on us all.” Kit adjusted his tactic, to one that he knew they could see sense in. “Would that bring some joy to the people?” 

“Well, this matter is beyond my wit, Your Majesty.” Cornelius offered his input. “But I for one, certainly wouldn’t mind a good night.” 

“Then I believe that we have an agreement.” The Grand Duke voiced after a moment of conferring with the King. “A Royal Ball for the people, a Princess for our Prince, and a great lift for the Kingdom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the story is moving along properly, and the motives of certain people start coming into the light. The tricky part so far has been to keep true to the story of Cinderella, inspired by two particular versions, yet not copy them blow-for-blow, hence a few small adjustments with that in mind. 
> 
> With luck, I'll be able to create one that's unique in its own way.


	4. Chapter 4

“Still better than their music.” Ella near-whispered to herself. 

She didn’t particularly like what the station had on at this time, but with so few channels available it was the best she could find. Besides, she couldn’t afford to waste time switching between them if she wanted to stay on top of her workload, which at this time was taking care of all the breakfast crockery left by her stepfamily. 

“And now, a Special Announcement from the Royal Palace.” The tenor tone from the speaker came with a slight momentary crackle. Not nearly enough to actually properly capture Ella’s attention, though enough to bring an image of Kit to mind. What made her actually manage to stop what she was doing and pay attention to it was: 

“Seven days from now, in honour of the Prince Albert Charmont, there is to be a Ball held in the Palace of the Royal Family. In accordance with Tradition, it is at said Ball that the Prince will choose his Bride. Furthermore, at the Prince’s behest, this Ball will permit the attendance of all maidens of the Kingdom, without regard to their background. As commanded by His Majesty.” 

This. This was an opportunity that Ella couldn’t pass up. A chance to meet Kit again, and far sooner than she ever expected. 

“This message will be repeated every half-hour for the remainder of this day.” The Announcer closed off as the station resumed it’s regular broadcast, though it was already turned off as Ella waited for the right moment to vacate the kitchen to deliver the news. 

\----------------

Interrupting any activity of Lady Tremaine’s usually was an open invitation to a harsh penalty, but the magnitude of the news to deliver was in Ella’s mind, sufficient to warrant a staying of her Hand. So after taking several long moments to steel herself, she rapped the door and waited. 

“Enter.” The cold command sounded through the thick oak door to which Ella complied as quick as she was able. “I’ve told you already to never interrupt me when I’m busy.” If looks could kill, Lady Tremaine would have had some difficulty explaining it to the authorities. 

“I’m sorry, but there was a Special Announcement from the Palace…” Ella began to explain. 

“The Palace!?” Drizella cut in, forcing Ella to halt. 

“When?” Anastasia added with slightly more calm. 

“Girls, girls, please calm yourselves.” Lady Tremaine’s tone softened by the slightest fraction. “Cinderella. When was this announcement made?” 

“There will be a repeat of it in less than five minutes Stepmother.” Ella sidestepped that answer in favour of one that she expected her stepmother to prefer. 

“Then what are you waiting for? Turn on the radio right now.” 

Once the valves had warmed through, the room’s radio crackled into life in time for the four of them to listen to it, in particular the interruption to the schedule to allow for the Royal Announcement. 

“Every Maiden? That’s me!” Drizella cried out the moment the broadcast concluded. 

“No! Me!” Anastasia retorted. 

“Calm yourselves!” Lady Tremaine moved between them, making certain she had their attention. “Now listen carefully. One of you must win the Heart of the Prince. Do that, and all our futures will be secure.” 

“A Princess? Me?” Anastasia wasn’t even pretending to hide her glee at the thought. 

“Or rather, me.” Drizella’s ambition equally ill-disguised. 

“And I, I can go as well.” Ella added under her breath, but not quiet enough to escape notice. 

“You!? Dancing with the Prince!?” Drizella spat out. “Mind holding my dishcloth, Your Highness?” 

“I fail to see why that can’t be. After all, the command from His Majesty stated that every Maiden is invited. And I am still, a member of the family.” Ella countered with the hard facts. 

“Yes. That is true.” Lady Tremaine conceded the logic of her stance. “And as such, so long as you are able to complete all your work in time, and if your have something suitable to wear, then you can go.” Again, the smile she made kept from her eyes but for once, it wasn’t noticed. 

“Oh, thank you Stepmother.” Ella meant it. 

“Now. You must run into the City right now, and tell that seamstress to run up fine Ball Gowns for us three. Go.” Lady Tremaine became serious again, to which Ella nodded her understanding and left to follow her instruction. 

“Mother?” Drizella questioned once they knew Ella was well out of earshot. “Do you know what you’ve just said to her?” 

“I know exactly what I just told her Drizella.” Lady Tremaine spoke slow and clear. “I said, _If…_ ”

“Oh… _If_ …” Anastasia picked up on what her mother was planning. 

\----------------

It would be quite the understatement, to say that the next six days were a sizeable toll for Ella. As well as her usual tasks with the general maintenance of the château, there was also the matter of daily checks with the seamstress as to the status of the ordered dresses which took up a lot of time simply in the travel. Plus whatever other chores her stepfamily found for her, which amounted to quite a lot. Whether it be a thorough cleaning of previously unused rooms, or repairing/throwing out their older dresses and trimmings they either no longer wanted or just wanted as decoration. 

It didn’t take Ella long to realise what the intent was, an effort on their part to overload her as so to keep her from being able to go with them. What they apparently hadn’t counted on was that this was something she’d grown used to, enough to manage the tasks in such a way so she could spare herself fifteen minutes here and there to work on her own dress through the day, plus a half hour at the start and end. 

The dress in question used to be her mother’s. Her Birth Mother. Powder pink and rather out-of-date now, but with the help of a book that offered tips and instructions on dressmaking, and a few pieces of discarded ribbon and lace in the right colours, Ella’s dress slowly came together. 

The other area of concern for Ella was Galahad. With all the time taken up with Ball preparations, it was all she could do to at least make sure he was fed, and his stable kept clean enough for him. 

“I’m sorry for this, not being able to spare any time for you.” Ella apologised to him late one night. “Not being able to take you out like I should have. It’s just…they’ve loaded me down with so much work, it‘s a wonder I‘ve time for anything else.” 

Even if Galahad couldn’t reply in words, he was still able to snort and rub his head against her in lieu of them. 

“Once this crazy week is done, I’ll make sure you get your exercise, just two days until then.” Ella promised her old friend. “The Ball’s only tomorrow night, let’s, hold on until then shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incoming Ball and not much time to get ready, particularly for the severely overworked Ella. 
> 
> This Chapter took longer than I expected, but with the outlines for the next one already completed, the next one should be a little quicker in writing down. 
> 
> One thing you may have noticed is that prior chapters have been edited lately, to remove a few characters. I've done so since ultimately, they don't actually serve a purpose to this particular story, so their being there was of little use. 
> 
> I hope you're all enjoying this story so far. ^_^


	5. Chapter 5

Finally, the night of the Royal Ball arrived, and all in the land were working overtime to be ready for when the night fell, none more so than Ella who had been pushing herself close to breaking point to have everything prepared in time. The dresses for her stepfamily had finally arrived, and not a moment too soon as she assisted her stepsisters into theirs, the corsets being the pacing item with their insistence on having them pulled in as tight as their waists would allow. 

And still they - Anastasia and Drizella - managed to find new chores for her, cleaning up and cleaning out their respective bedrooms which allowed Ella to find the last ribbon she needed to complete her own dress. 

Small wonder then that by six-thirty, her stepfamily dressed and ready, just waiting for the hired transport that Lady Tremaine, to her credit, had personally seen to, Ella was forced to rush Galahad’s feeding before racing to her attic room for a quick cleanup. Managing to peel away the day’s dirt and dust in record time as she discarded her maid’s uniform and put on her own dress. 

Looking over herself in the mirror, the dress itself wasn’t all that bad. Actually, Ella quite liked it. Not too garish and the various shades of pink worked with each other, complimented each other, and the lace and ribbon added enough to bring keep it’s age hidden. 

“Mother, Father, you would be so proud.” Ella whispered to the portrait of them she had smuggled in, hanging over her bed as she left her bedroom. 

To where her stepfamily was waiting as the foot of the main stairs, the hired transport having only just that minute arrived. 

“Now none in this Kingdom shall outshi…” Lady Tremaine had been complimenting her daughters ‘taste’ when their shocked expressions made her stop and turn. “Cinderella?” She managed. 

“This. Was my mother’s old dress, you see? I fixed it up myself.” Ella explained to them with a soft smile. 

“Cinderella? At the Ball!?” Drizella demanded, venom lacing her words. 

“Who would want a Servant Girl for a Bride?” Anastasia added, feeling just as insulted as her sister. 

“Now girls. We did have an agreement.” Lady Tremaine began by taking a single step towards Ella, itself enough to remove her smile. “And I, _never/ _, go back on my Word.”__

__“Mother…” Anastasia pleased._ _

__“Look at the Ribbon. Does it not lift it up?”_ _

__“Actually no. It…” Drizella started to deny her mother’s statement before she noticed the obvious fact. “That Ribbon! It’s mine!” She stormed to Ella and tore it away, cutting into the dress itself._ _

__“And that’s! That’s my lace! You little thief! Give it back!” Anastasia caught on to her mother’s alert and aided her sister in ‘reclaiming’ their property._ _

__Ella’s pleading and begging fell on deaf ears. So lost in their immature fury they were that they wouldn’t stop ripping away the lace, the ribbons, and chunks of the dress itself. Not caring that the items themselves were damaged beyond repair as they did so._ _

__“Girls. Girls!” Lady Tremaine was forced to raise her voice at them, and only then did they stop. “I will _not_ have you upsetting yourselves! Not when there is a Prince’s Heart to be won.” _ _

__Carelessly dropping the decorations on the floor, they were able to compose themselves enough to leave the main doors, Lady Tremaine mere steps behind them as she left with them, but not before having one last word with her stepdaughter._ _

__“Goodnight.”_ _

__Long moments ticked by with only the chimes of the clock as seven pm came and went to break the silence. One tear formed at the corner of Ella’s eye, then another. A small hiccup. A shake._ _

__All her work, all the hours she slaved away to not only have all her increased tasks completed, but also to have this dress made. And now. The left sleeve and shoulder gone. A bit of her waist, on the right side, exposed. Another tear down the same side below the waistline._ _

__It was all too much for Ella to take. The long hours caught up to her as she took an unsteady step back. Now the tears were spilling out with her strangled sobs. Her clumsy steps as she stumbled through the château sending her shoes flying while she made her way to the water fountain in the back garden, where she finally managed to drop to her knees. Nothing holding back her crying now._ _

__“I’m…I’m s-sorry…M-M…Mother.” Ella finally succeeded in gurgling out. “I…said I’ve have…Courage…that…that. I don’t! I don’t believe! Not…any. Any…more!” She couldn’t speak now, her cries all Ella could do._ _

__In her rush to be ready in time, Ella had forgotten to close the stable properly, so Galahad had been able to let himself out, and just in time to see Ella’s distraught state. This was a state he’d never once known Ella to be in, and found himself unable to do anything about it. Other than, slowly stepping towards her, and hoping it would be enough._ _

__Stopping when he caught sight of someone approaching, his loud snort catching both this intruders and Ella’s attention._ _

__“My apologies. But could you spare me a crumb of bread? Or perhaps a cup of milk?” Whoever she was, her wrinkled face and hunched stance spoke volumes of her age, of a hard life lived._ _

__“Y…” Ella started before stopping herself, wiping her tears away and rising up again. “Yes. I think I can find something.” She finished and returned inside the house, using a side entrance to take her straight to the kitchen, returning moments later with a large half-filled glass of milk for the old lady._ _

__“And excuse me, but, why were you crying?” The old beggar asked as she accepted the glass._ _

__“Oh. Nothing.” Ella’s reply was more of an exhale, but now she wasn’t feeling as upset as she just had, managing a weak smile at that._ _

__“Nothing?”_ _

__“Nothing.” Ella didn’t want to burden her with her own concerns._ _

__“Then what is this glass of milk?” The old lady pressed on. “Nothing. But, kindness. Is what makes it Everything.” She spoke this part slowly, making certain that Ella heard her every word before she took a long noisy drink from it, until it was all gone._ _

__“Now I really don’t wish to rush you Ella, but you don’t have much time.”_ _

__“For wha…wait? How do…you know me?” Now Ella’s tears were truly banished, replaced by utter confusion as to how she could know her name. “Who, are you?”_ _

__“Me? I thought you would have realised that by now.” The old lady sounded surprised at Ella’s lack of knowing. “Your Fairy Godmother, of course.”_ _

__“That. That can’t be.”_ _

__“Why not?”_ _

__“They’re not real. Just, made up stories for children.” Ella explained to her, trying not to sound insulting._ _

__“Did your mother not believe in them?” The old lady asked back. “And don’t say No, because I’ve heard her say otherwise.”_ _

__“And how do you know her?” Now Ella really wanted to know more about her, as she must have been here years before to have even met her mother._ _

__“How else? Now. Before we get started, let me get myself into something more comfortable.” The lady marched herself into the centre of the garden with a strength that belied her aged appearance._ _

__What Ella saw next, she knew would be something that she would never forget. Not for the remainder of her own days. As the old lady managed to throw her long walking staff into the air, a shower of sparkles spilling from it as it reached its peak, falling back to her waiting hand as the sparkles smothered her, hiding her from sight for a moment._ _

__A moment long enough for once they faded, what stood in its centre. Well, it was still the old lady, but she looked far healthier now, much of the lines gone, her scraggly hair, though still light grey was now sleek, smooth, and tied back in a bun. The ratty clothes replaced by a soft-blue gown._ _

__“Much better.” She said to herself before turning her attention back to Ella. “Now. What we need for you is, um, ah yes! A mode of transport.” She declared while looking around for something._ _

__“Well…” Ella began, beginning to believe again. “There is, my father’s old car, behind the trees there” She pointed to the trees where it rested._ _

__“Yes. That will do nicely. Bring it over then.”_ _

__“But it’s rusted over, it hasn’t worked in years.”_ _

__“In that case.” The lady stated, tapping her wand to make a few light sparks. “Let’s see about bringing some life into it.”_ _

__Ella was about to ask her how she intended to do that, but she was already at work, a long stream of flickering sparks arcing from her wand and over to the general place where the rusted car rested. For a few seconds, it seemed as if nothing was to come of it. Then from the trees, floating just off the ground, even with all the sparkling light surrounding it there was no mistaking that shape._ _

__Approaching them, the rusted metal scraped itself clean, the paint re-covering where it had peeled off. The windows losing their cracks, and returning in one case. Not only that, but where it had once been a dull olive-green, it now became a blue-white, almost like crystal. Tyres re-inflating and wire spokes rebuilding, inside the brown leather re-stitched and became cream, the wood became smooth again. Resting on the gravel path, the boiler alive once more, was her father’s old car._ _

__“There you go. One car for you.” She informed Ella cheerfully._ _

__“Then, you truly are, my, Fairy Godmother.” Ella gasped, believing once more._ _

__“Of course I am! Did I not already tell you that I was?” Her Fairy Godmother asked rhetorically, though not cruelly. “Now. Who to drive it?”_ _

__The Fairy Godmother looked around, and seeing only one suited to the task. “You’ll do fine dear Galahad. Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo!”_ _

__Before anyone had the chance to say, or do, anything, the sparks struck him, panicked whinnies filling the air that Galahad was lifted into as he found himself cart wheeling through it. Even through the glittering lights, Ella could see that something was happening to him. His torso shrunk right down and his limbs being reformed, the beginnings of a uniform covering him before he landed with an awkward thud. The light grey uniform he now wore almost a match for the fur he normally had, dark grey hair mostly hidden under a drivers cap, and white teeth though there was a notable buck on the upper front pair._ _

__“Excuse me but, I can’t drive. I’m a horse.” Galahad uttered his first words once he recovered from his changing form. Something that Ella couldn’t help but laugh at, just how absurd, yet sweet it all was._ _

__“You’re half-right. You couldn‘t drive as one, but that’s not the case right now, is it?” Ella’s Fairy Godmother corrected the former horse. “Now. I do believe that’s everything you need Ella, so come along now let’s not waste time here.”_ _

__“But, Fairy Godmother? My Dress.” Ella pointed out her ruined dress. “I can’t go like this. Could you, mend it? Please?”_ _

__“Whoa. That is a mess.” She finally gave it a serious look, running her eyes up and around it as she came to a decision. “That I can do. Something, elegant, yet daring…yes, that will do the trick. Now, would your mother mind if I, spruce it up a bit? A little blue?”_ _

__“No, I don’t believe she would.” Ella replied, curious as to what she had planned._ _

__“Then…” She pointed her wand at Ella, the sparkles of Magic now surrounding her. It didn’t hurt, not in the slightest. In fact, it was warm, comforting. And Ella just had to twirl on the spot, each revolution seeing more of the powder-pink shimmer into a rich blue, the dress itself billowing out with a new left shoulder. To Ella, an eternity passed, to those watching, less than half-a-minute. Even her hair had changed, still the same strawberry-blond, but now shorter and straighter. “There, perfect.” Ella’s Fairy Godmother complimented._ _

__“Oh, this is beautiful. She would have loved this.” Ella thanked her from the deepest recesses of her Soul._ _

__“I know.” She replied with equal warmth. “Now, the last piece.” Her wand left a slight sparkly residue on Ella and her dress, as well as giving her something for her once-bare feet._ _

__“These…these are glass.” Ella recognised the look of them immediately._ _

__“And they’re not only a perfect fit for you, but quite, quite comfortable as well. And your, stepfamily, they won’t recognise you. Now, you really must be off now, for you _shall_ go to the Ball tonight.” She guided Ella to the waiting car where Galahad had the rear-hinged door open ready for her. _ _

__Once Ella had herself and all of her dress inside the door was gently closed as he took the drivers seat, the valves opened to allow the steam into the cylinders, all he needed to do was release the handbrake and press one foot pedal to open the last valve to allow the car to move. Which would have to wait as Ella’s Fairy Godmother hurriedly tapped the window by Ella until she caught the grip and pulled it down._ _

__“Ella, I almost forgot! Remember this.” She began with a mixture of concern and seriousness. “The Magic, can only last for so long. After the final echo, of the final bell, at the final stroke of Midnight. The Spell will break, returning all to how it once was.”_ _

__“Midnight?” Ella wanted to be certain, the clock on the car fascia reading just before half-seven._ _

__“Maybe a very few minutes after, it’ll take a while, for this much Magic to fade away. But it will begin once Midnight is finished sounding.” Her Fairy Godmother clarified._ _

__“Even if it’s until midnight exactly, that still more than enough time.” Ella reassured her, and herself. “I couldn’t ask for more.”_ _

__“Thank you. Now, off you go!” The signal for Galahad to begin moving the car, surprised at how easily he was managing to keep it under control by using the steering wheel(?), foot valve and brake, and the valve to regulate the steam flow._ _

__“Goodbye!” Ella called out to her Fairy Godmother before the château came between them, closing the window again as Galahad brought them onto the main road and brought the car up to a steady, if brisk, seventeen miles per hour._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I did say this chapter would be quicker in its writing and uploading, but I, for one, didn't see myself getting it up quite so soon. 
> 
> I used the 1950 Movie as the primary base here, mainly because in that one, Lady Tremaine was able to uphold her end of the agreement and still succeed in ruining Ella's chances, for a couple of minutes. 
> 
> And in case you're wondering, Steam Cars being External Combustion, operate in a very different manner to gas/petrol/diesel Internal Combustion Engines, not needing a heavy gearbox to reduce the engine speed before it reaches the wheels but do need a heavy condenser/radiator unit to function properly. And with some 500 lb-ft of torque more than possible to make up for the low power (as little as 10hp) means a different way of driving them, lest you spin and shred the drive wheels. 
> 
> And this _is_ the 1920's, then 17mph was considered brisk for a car while anything over 30 was deemed excessive.


	6. Chapter 6

Now up to nineteen miles an hour, even at this pace it would be some fifty minutes at least before they arrived at the Palace some fourteen miles away. And that gave Ella a lot of time on her hands. 

“So…” Galahad began with a deep baritone voice, a little over ten minutes into the drive, still working to form the words properly. “…why this road? And not the back one? It‘s five miles less.” 

“And in truly poor condition, I don‘t recall any work being done to it since before I was born. Not since this new one was built.” Ella pointed out. “It may be shorter, but we’d have to go so slowly on it, that it would end up taking quite a bit longer for us to arrive.” 

“I…see.” Galahad may have accepted that answer, but…

“Is something the matter?” It wasn’t lost on Ella that there was something bothering her equine friend. 

“There is.” He answered bluntly. “You never asked.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“You never asked me if I was fine with this.” He pointed to himself briefly. “You never checked to be sure if I would be fine with this. Being flung around in the air, having my spine crunched, my legs warped.” 

“Oh.” Now Ella realised what Galahad was meaning. 

“Yes. Oh.” He risked a moment to turn to face Ella when the next corner was dealt with. “I just wish, that you’d asked me first. I would have said yes.” 

“Well, you couldn’t speak then, but you’re right.” Ella admitted. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s okay. I, just needed to get that off my shrunken chest.” Galahad was facing the road again. 

“And I’m sorry you went through that, and without being asked. I guess, in all the excitement, I, blanked out on that.” Ella added, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her. “But, what do you plan on doing?” 

“That is, actually a very good question. There’s only about four hours and ten minutes left of this, and I don’t know the first thing about behaving like a human.” 

“Good point.” Ella worked out what it meant. Given the short time that Galahad had until he became a horse again, and given that he had no experience of such a thing either, it was not a poor conclusion that he’d have some trouble coping. “Well. These Balls I know little of, but from what I’ve been able to overhear from, them, I don’t think you’d be permitted into the Grand Hall. But there might well be other places set aside for the chauffeurs, the Palace Staff not on duty, and others. If that’s the case, then you might have a chance to enjoy yourself there.” 

“True, but…” Galahad paused, thinking about how he could put it. “…as I already said, this is the first, perhaps also the last time, I’ll be human. If I mess, if I make a mess of it…” 

“Then don’t.” Ella interrupted. “Try to enjoy this night while it lasts, since as you already said, it might never come again.” 

“I…I think you’re right.” Galahad ceded. 

[+]

Several miles ahead of them, the final preparations were being made for the Ball that would begin very soon. Most not seen by the arrivals as they waited just outside the Grand Hall for their entry. At this late hour, the final few were now arriving, e few dignitaries from neighbouring lands and kingdoms, members of the nobility, a few from the lower classes, and among them, three members of the Tremaine Household. 

The two daughters were gaping in open awe at the spectacle, the fireworks lighting the sky in chaotic sequence, the masses of the Elite, the sheer Grandeur of it all that they themselves had not seen before this night. With rather more refinement, their mother waited for the hired chauffeur to open the door for them before allowing him to aid her exit. 

“Now girls.” She motioned for their attention. “With your best behaviour, you will succeed.” She made her way up the stairs, her daughters remaining one step behind her. 

Inside the Grand Hall, the servants had just finished applying the finishing touches. The last spent bulbs replaced, all the heaters checked and adjusted where needed, the refreshments ready and waiting. All under the watchful eye of their Employer and King. The recent period of imposed rest had been a help to him, and some of the old colour had returned to his tired face, a bit more energy than in recent days. Enough strength in him to notice the watchful eye of his Son. 

“The reason for your generosity with the invitations. It’s that girl you met in the forest, is it not?” He voiced his suspicion. 

“Father, it was for the people.” Kit ‘reminded’ him. 

“Kit, I’m well aware of the Love you have for our people.” King Pierre began to make his move. “As am I aware of how your head’s been turned. By one you’ve only met once or twice, in the forest.” 

“And you would have me choose one I’ve only met once, tonight.” Kit read right through his intention. 

“A princess. A princess, or nothing.” 

Kit’s attempt to continue was halted by the Grand Duke’s arrival. 

“My apologies for the interruption.” He addressed them. “But the preparations are now complete, and we can bring in the guests at your leisure.” 

“Good. Bring them in.” The King instructed, taking his place at the throne seat overlooking the entire Hall. 

“At once.” The Grand Duke took his leave with a deep bow, turning to deliver the instruction to the waiting staff. 

Within minutes, the first of the invited were entering the Grand Hall. The Elite, the Nobility first in, their dresses and suit’s the finest money could buy. 

“The Princess Hilda of Shona!” The announcer declared over the recently installed speaker system, now possible to make his words clear across the entire Hall and beyond without needing to raise his voice all the time. “The Princess Chelina of Zaragosa!” 

The rest of the announcements wafted past Kit’s ears, his eyes peering through the many faces to seek out the one he had his eyes on. No sight of her yet, but this was only the first arrivals, perhaps she was further back? 

[+]

Which wasn’t an inaccurate suspicion for Kit to hold, as the clock turned to 20:25, the Steam-Powered Car Ella rode in had reached the foot of the Main Stairs leading to the Entrance. Parked in a space between a few other, newer models, Ella was about to leave when a nervousness struck her. 

“Is, something the matter?” Galahad noticed her slight shiver. 

“I’m, I’m afraid Galahad.” Ella confessed to her old friend. “I’m just a girl after all, not a princess.” 

“Hey, don’t forget that I’m only a horse, not a chauffeur.” Galahad stated as he let himself out to jog around the car to her door. “So enjoy this while it lasts. That’s what you told me, correct?” His smile making clear the prominence of his polished front teeth. 

“Thank you.” Ella’s gratefulness obvious as she took his hand and stood up. A last shuffle of her dress as she steeled herself one last time before beginning the long walk to where Kit was waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When writing this particular chapter, there was one department I felt HAD to be addressed. In close to all the versions of Cinderella, where 'staff' are 'made available' for her, they never seem to be asked for their permission first. 
> 
> They are forced into new bodies, and expected to do a job they were never sought permission for. So I saw fit to have Galahad point this obvious fact out to Ella, even though he would have said "Yes" to any such question anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

Just before half-eight, and the Ball now officially begun even as Ella continued through the Hallways, working her way to the Grand Hall. 

“The Clever Miss Drizella! The Beautiful Miss Anastasia! The Lady Tremaine!” The last invited were read off. 

“May I present to you, Her Royal Highness, the Princess Chelina of Zaragosa.” The Grand Duke introduced her to the King Pierre and Prince Kit. His smile, while warm was concealing his intent to have her claim the First Dance. 

“You are, as lovely as your portraits suggest.” Chelina started. “And your little Kingdom is, enchanting.” A hint of disdain at the small size of it, in terms of both populace and area. 

“True, but I do hope that the Princess does not find our ‘little kingdom’ to be too, confining.” Kit picked up on it right away and returned the fire, a small smile brought to his father’s face as a consequence. 

Further talk was halted by the announcer taking to the centre of the Hall and signalling his intent to speak. 

“Your Majesty! Your Highness! My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen! Distinguished Visitors! And People of our Land!” He waited a moment to be certain that all eyes and ears were on him. “As is Custom! Our Prince, shall now choose his Partner, for the First Dance! Let the Ball, commence!” 

That was Kit’s signal to leave his father’s side, and proceed to the middle of the floor. Under the visual pretext of searching the crowd to select his partner, Kit’s eyes were actually peering through them to try and find her. He knew in his head that the chances of her being here tonight were slim at best, but his Heart had no desire to admit defeat when he couldn’t find her. 

At the moment he was prepared to relent, beginning to turn to choose Chelina, the door opened once more, catching Kit’s attention as the one he waited for arrived. The lights seemed to bounce and scatter from her, the arrays of blues shimmering even in this artificial lighting. At the top of the stairs she paused, her eyes locked in him, and his on her. Her steps down filled with grace and delicacy, and he in turn, moved to meet her at the foot of the stairs. 

“Mr Kit.” Her voice soft and in awe. 

“It is you, isn’t it?” Kit _had_ to be certain his eyes were not playing tricks on him, needed the confirmation from her herself. 

“Just so.” Ella confirmed her identity from before. 

“Then, it would give me…the greatest pleasure. If you, would do me the Honour, of leading you through, this, the first…” Kit found himself having trouble getting the right words out, the sight of her in front of her, and in such splendour, taking the words from him. 

“Dance?” Ella finished on his behalf. 

“Yes. The First Dance.” Kit confirmed, taking her hand and leading her to the centre of the room, the music slowly starting up. 

A live orchestra that was still the preference of many, Kit and Ella, their eyes fixed on each other as he guided her through the moves, not one step out of place. 

“They’re all looking at you.” Ella gasped quietly, so only Kit could hear. 

“Believe me, they’re all looking at you.” Kit voiced his belief as they slowly built up the dance. 

Soon they were twirling around the room where the others had made the space for them, the classical music perfect not only for the occasion but their respective states of mind. Her emotion building up and she couldn’t help but smile and giggle through it. His warm smile at this moment of absolute peace and joy. 

“Who is she?“ Chelina demanded quietly, the mystery of the announced Ella not lost on those watching. 

“I have no idea.” The Grand Duke was forced to admit, a confession not lost on the King who too, had his eyes on Kit and Ella, beginning to get an idea as to what he had seen in her, this mystery girl. 

The Captain stood nearby, seeing the mystery lady again, and how much his Prince was enjoying her company. 

“Who’s that Mother?” Drizella asked in a not-quite hushed whisper. 

“I’m not sure.” Lady Tremaine replied, the efforts to conceal Ella working as all she could glean was the vaguest sense of familiarity. “But this does not bode well.” 

The dance approached its end, and after a few more moves that drew exclamation and awe from the invited, applauded them when the music ceased. 

“Girls, focus.” Lady Tremaine instructed her daughters, taking their attention away from Ella and to herself. “You must turn the Prince’s head you fools, now get out there.” 

“But no-one’s asked us to dance.” Drizella pointed out. 

“Gentlemen.” Their mother provided the needed cover. “May I present my daughters. Anastasia, Drizella.” 

“Mademoiselle.” One returned the introduction in the usual polite manner. 

Enough to secure them each a dance partner as others took an unannounced cue to join in the next dance. This time Kit and Ella had to work around the others to maintain their own steps, but a few short musical numbers alerted Ella to Kit’s intent, as they’d slowly been moving towards an exit. 

“Come with me.” Kit took her hand and led her through the door while the others were too into the dance to pay attention. 

“So you’re the Prince.” Ella managed once she knew they were alone. 

“Not ‘The Prince’, precisely. There are plenty of Princes in the World. I’m only, ‘a’ Prince.” Kit corrected her. 

“But your name, isn’t Kit.” 

“It is. It comes from my Middle Name, which my father still calls me, when he’s especially, un-peeved at me.” He clarified for Ella. 

“But you’re not an apprentice.” 

“I am. Apprentice Monarch.” Kit replied, a joking tone in his voice. “And still learning my Trade.” 

“Oh…” Ella couldn’t speak for a moment, the sheer gravity of it all bearing down on her. In fact, had it not been for Galahad’s words earlier, she might have found herself attempting to flee there and then. 

“Look. I‘m sorry.” Kit offered by way of apology. “I thought that if you knew about me, you might, treat me different. I mistook you for a good, honest, country girl, and now I see that you, did not wish to overawe a common soldier.” 

“Little chance of that.” Ella knew that Kit’s conclusion was wrong, but couldn’t quite bring herself to tell him that. Not just yet anyway. “No more surprises?” She then asked after a moment to take it all in. 

“No more surprises.” Kit promised her, extending a hand out to Ella. “Come, there’s a few thing I wish to show you.” 

As Ella took it, she stopped as something caught her eye. “Is that you?”

“That it is.” Kit looked at the recent portrait of himself. Holding the long-barrelled repeating rifle - a Winchester Model - in one hand, on horseback, and in his best hunting gear. “I must confess, that I can’t stand myself in these portraits. But even so, they do have something to them that a photograph simply can’t capture. The essence, vitality, the Life itself.” 

“And I must confess, that no-one has ever made a portrait of me.” 

“Really?” Kit was confused as to how this could be the case. “Well they should.” 

[+]

It soon dawned on Galahad that Ella had been correct in two matters. One, he was cut off from the Grand Hall, and two, he was with a few other staff off to the side. Unfortunately he too had been correct in something, his own lack of experience at being a human causing him some problems. From not knowing how to conduct himself, to not knowing basic introductions. When he was finally queried about his, odd behaviour, he had to wrack his mind to invent a plausible reason. 

“Well, this would be, my, first such time at, such a, task.” He finally managed. 

“How so?” One of the others asked him. 

“How do I put this? It’s the, first time I’ve, chauffeured someone, the first time I’ve been to such a place.” Galahad tried his best to explain. “So experience in this, is something, I lack.” 

“Forgive me for asking this then, but you look as if you should have plenty.” Another, a scullery maid queried. 

“True, but, what you describe is all still very, recent for me.” 

“So? You‘re one who reached this status late?” 

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Galahad replied, well, it was true enough that his being a human chauffeur was a recent thing, but from where he was before, it was still a substantial leap for him. 

“In that case, keep an eye on what the others are doing, try to keep pace, and you’ll be fine.” The Maid offered as the music from the gramophone started on a new vinyl. 

Taking the advice to heart, Galahad watched the next few dances they had, seeing the various steps and the rhythm until he was satisfied he knew enough to try his own luck. Not much more than two hours remaining now for him to have his own fun. 

[+]

Later on in the night, once Kit had shown Ella around the interior rooms, he led her outside to the cool night. The many rows of halogen lighting directing their light to the flowerbeds, ponds, and panning across the massive gardens. 

“Won’t they miss you at the Ball?” Ella asked out of the blue, remembering that it would still be quite active there. 

“They might, but let’s not head back yet.” Kit answered and decided, wishing to spend his time with her. 

But the growing look of concern on his face did not go unnoticed. “What’s wrong?” 

Sighing, to himself, Kit gave his reason. “When I return, they will try to pair me off with a lady of their choosing.” He referred to his father and the Grand Duke. “They expect me to marry in the name of Advantage.” 

“Who’s advantage?” The question one of genuine curiosity from Ella. 

“That, is a good question.” Kit replied with a smile. 

“But do you not, have a Right to your own Heart?” 

“I do, but I must weigh my desires against the King’s wishes. He is a wise ruler, and a Loving Father.” Kit admitted his reasons for giving their plans thought. 

“Perhaps, he’ll change his mind?” Ella offered as comfort. 

This made Kit pause, and stop where he was, struggling to find a good way to say it so instead just giving it bluntly. “I fear he does not have much time left to do so.” 

Now it was Ella’s turn to halt. Realising how callous her remark must have sounded to him, regardless of the intent. “Poor Kit.” She did manage. 

“Come. There’s something left for me to show you.” Kit changed the subject, guiding her along the pathway. 

[+]

“…and no-one knows who she is.” The Grand Duke was not pleased at this time, all efforts to discern the identity of the one who Kit danced with ending in failure, not even a picture of her. 

“But they are saying she’s a Princess.” The Captain supplied as they spoke more about the mystery Princess. “The Prince seems to be quite taken with her.” 

“And you saw how she went straight to him.” The Grand Duke added. “You do have to appreciate her. Efficiency.” 

“But if she truly is a princess, then this is good.” Cornelius presumed that to be enough, of high enough status to allow it without serious objection. 

“I’ve already promised his Hand to the Princess Chelina.” The Grand Duke admitted, unaware of the other pair of ears that picked up on this. “But…” He started as he turned to notice that the Lady Tremaine was standing there. 

“Oh. Forgive me Your Grace.” She spoke with practiced elegance, and soft tone. “I did not mean to intrude on your affairs.” 

“No Madam. It is you who should forgive me.” The Grand Duke replied with a deep bow before leaving, but not before Lady Tremaine had one last word with him. 

“Your secret is safe with me.” 

[+]

“This is what I wanted to show you.” Kit opened the old wooden door. “It’s a place I’ve never shown to anyone.” 

Entering, Ella was treated to the sight of an immaculately tended garden. The walls formed by the stones, trees, and bushes, hiding it from the rest of the World. 

“A Secret Garden.” Ella deduced as she looked around. “Oh, I love it.” 

“It used to be my mother’s. Yes, she would be here whenever she could.” Kit explained to her, his soul opening up his deepest secrets. “My father too, when his duties didn’t tie him down. After…I too it upon myself to tend to this place, to nurture it. Some days, I can see her smiling face here, when she was tending to the plants and flowers, sitting by the swing or the pond.” 

“I’m certain she would be happy, very happy with the work you’ve done here.” Ella’s voice soft, filled with calm, and caring. 

“I, I think you may be right.” Kit went to the swing where Ella was near. “Please.” one hand on the rope, the other an open palm of invitation. 

“But I shouldn’t.” 

“But you should.” 

“I shouldn’t.” 

“You should.” 

“I will.” Ella relented, resting herself on the swing bench, waiting for it to come behind her and gently begin. 

The long swings that slowly picked up in length and pace with each soft nudge from Kit, as Ella kept a firm grip on the ropes. Her eyes scanning across the garden, at the love and car Kit had given it. In a way, Ella could see his soul in the place, small wonder then it was so fiercely guarded by him. 

The swinging stopped when Ella’s foot dragged along the grass, causing one of her slippers to be pulled loose and rest in front of her. Kit noticed it too as he held the swing steady until Ella had a firm purchase on the ground, only then did he make to retrieve it for her. Down on one knee to pick it up, and when he had it in his hand…

“Glass?” How any footwear of such make could not only be comfortable, but resilient too was lost on him. 

“Why not?” Ella replied, in jest. 

“May I?” 

“Please.” Ella let the swing down to resting point before she and Kit gently slid the multi-layered skirt of her dress up just enough to allow him to slide the slipper back onto her foot. 

“There.” Kit declared once her foot was shielded from the ground again. 

“There.” Ella repeated, their faces coming ever closer. 

“So? Could you tell me who you really are?” Kit asked gently, still kneeling where he was. 

But not aware of how this sent a pang of fear into Ella. “I’m afraid, that if I did, I’m afraid, that it would change, everything.” 

“I, don’t understand. Can you at least tell me your name?” Kit tried again, unknowing as to the source of her fear. 

Her name. That Ella felt was small enough for her to chance, given how many people went by the name Eleanor, or Ella. “My name…” She began and stopped when she finally noticed the time, now reading 11:54 pm. Just six minutes left before the Magic was gone. “…I must leave.” 

“What?” For the briefest of moments, Kit had been at completely the wrong point. 

“I have to leave, it’s hard to explain.” Ella hurriedly spoke. “Horses and cars, and, things.” She quickly raced out of the garden to Kit’s calling for her. 

“Wait! Where are you going!?” 

Through a gap in the walls, Ella could have her last words with Kit. “You’ve been so nice to me Kit. Thank you. I loved this evening. Every second of it.” She raced off again to leave the baffled Prince Kit by himself on the swing. 

“Horses, and cars?” He couldn’t discern the meaning behind her words, but no matter. With a broadening smile, he rose from the swing and made to catch up to her. 

Although that delay had been enough to allow Ella a good lead on him, as she was closing in on the doors to the back of the Palace, once through them, she would be back to the front where she could escape before anyone saw anything as the clock minute hand moved forward once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter yet, and with good reason. It's Ella's night to have some real joy for once in a very long time, and given how rare an occurrence this must be for her, I think she'd want to savour every moment she could. 
> 
> As for Galahad? I did feel the need to at least try to address the issue of what he'd be doing in the equally few hours he had. I can't say for sure if I did him justice, but I wasn't going to just leave him out. 
> 
> And I think you all know what's going to happen next. ;-)


	8. Chapter 8

Racing through the Palace in her panicky state, Ella soon found herself back in the Grand Hall where the dancing even now continued. 

“Sorry, so sorry, excuse me.” She called to each in turn as she slid through the dancing throng, unaware that Anastasia had accidentally aided her efforts when Kit caught up, forced to spend a moment with her to avoid causing further problems. 

With the extra time she had, Ella had made it back to the entrance to the Hall where she bumped into someone. 

“Oh!” She recognised him right away. “Your Majesty! I’m so sorry.” The tightly corseted dress making its pitfall known with her lack of breath. 

“Think nothing of it.” King Pierre replied kindly to her apology and curtsy. But before Ella left, she had time enough to speak of one matter with the King. 

“I wanted to say, Your Majesty. That your son, Kit, is the most lovely person I’ve ever met. So kind, and so brave. I hope that you love him, as much as he does you. Excuse me.” She now had no time left to spare, and absolutely had to race towards where Galahad would be waiting. 

It may only have been a few moments, but even that was enough to make the King realise that there was far more to her than what simply showed on the surface, and he began to see, really see, what Kit saw in her. 

[+]

It would be supremely fortunate for Ella, that Galahad had noticed the time far sooner, and thus had been in sight of the car and the stairs for the past fifteen minutes, which let him see Ella as she raced down the stairs calling for him. 

“Galahad! GALAHAD!” 

“Excuse me, but my Lady needs me.” He pulled himself from the group and raced over to the waiting car, its boiler still running smoothly, and leaving them wondering why he‘d responded to that name. 

Once he reached it, he had the door open and noticed that Ella had not only stopped, but had gone back up a bit. What was she doing? 

“Wait! Where are you going!?” A man called to her, making her stop again and turn back to the car. 

“Hurry! Hurry!” Galahad didn’t need telling twice. He had seen for himself that they had three minutes remaining, so the moment the door was closed, he jumped in himself, sliding across the front bench the drivers’ side. 

One rapid check to see that all was ready, and he had the floor pedal down firmly, the handbrake released, and having put a bit too much pressure into the cylinders, the tyres were scrabbling for grip as they swung around the fountain, gaining purchase once they were moving in a straight line and through the inner gates. 

“You cut it rather fine.” Galahad pointed out as the car’s clock showed they were now down to two minutes. 

“Sorry Galahad, I lost track of time.” Ella confessed. 

[+]

Back at the stairs, Kit had stopped to pick up something, the same Glass Slipper that he’d put on her foot minutes before. 

“Captain, the cars.” Kit was ready to give chase. 

“No!” The Grand Duke came to his side. “This might be a trick, to lure you from the Palace. Your father needs you here.” The last sentence was softer, his concern for his King genuine. 

“Captain!” He called for the Captain of the Guard, who had his own words for his Prince. 

“I was having a wonderful night. You just _had_ to go and choose her, didn’t you.” He stated before complying with the Grand Duke’s command. 

“Yes I did.” Kit replied, smiling to himself, as he was right, he did have to choose her. 

While the Grand Duke and Captain made for two of the five awaiting vehicles, each adorned with the Royal Crest atop their radiators, Kit could not help but marvel at the events of the evening, seeing her once more, their time together, her quite frankly bizarre exit. Once the Grand Duke and Captain were giving chase, past the gates, only then did Kit turn to head back inside. 

[+]

“One minute.” Ella gasped, praying that they could get away in time. 

A prayer that had little chance of being answered. The narrow roads with their tight turns were slowing them down, Galahad had yet to get past twenty-five, but even that was enough to take the grip past the limits as they nearly spun out, sending Ella sliding onto the floor as they just missed a tree while he barely managed to reclaim control and get them back on the road. Heaving herself back on the cream leather bench, looking back to see that they were now giving chase. 

“Such bad timing.” Ella muttered. 

It was. While their pursuers were still behind them, they had the advantage of not only far more experienced drivers, but their cars being much newer, more powerful, and tyres that could stick to the road, as they were built to do. 

And the clock moved once again, the Bells sounding the first chime that midnight had arrived. 

For the first few chimes, nothing seemed to happen, and they reached a long straight leading to the outer gates, the traditional watch station of the city. Now Galahad opened the valves all the way, the car lurching slightly with the massive increase in steam entering the cylinders, pushing us past twenty-five, then thirty, thirty-two, thirty-four. 

The chimes continued, and the quietness of the car meant that Ella could just about hear them now. 

And witness the consequence. Galahad seemed to shake for a moment, then the sound of clopping was heard. His shoes had been pushed off when his feet turned back into hooves, his socks joining them with his frantic efforts to get a purchase on the floor pedal with his right one again. The car speeding up even as the palace guards closed in on them. 

Leaning forwards, Ella could see that the watch guards were busy doing something. The Gate! 

“Can we make it?” Ella asked, turning to see that Galahad’s ears were pointed and grey, sending her sliding away slightly in shock. 

“Yesh.” He managed even as his face slowly pushed out, slowly returning to its original shape. 

Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four. Their pace crept up, not by enough as their pursuers gained ground, and to add to their woes the gate itself was shuddering, the heavy iron bars sliding loose, gravity pulling them down faster. Ella’s eyes squeezed shut as Galahad raced them through the archway, the spikes barely missing them as they smashed into the ground. 

When Ella opened her eyes again, she slid back to see behind them, the lights from the crested cars on the other side some distance away. A small triumph, enough to buy them the precious two minutes or so they needed to be out of sight. 

All things considered it was just as well as the Magic continued to slowly wear off, and seemingly picking on Galahad right now given how stretched and strained his uniform had become. The sound of buttons popping when he made a hard left that swung Ella to the right side of her bench. 

And onto the old back road. 

“Are you, sure?” Ella gasped, knowing herself the poor state of this road, especially further up. 

But as much as Galahad wanted to reply, he could no longer form the words, instead having to nod his head hard to say ‘yes’, which sent his drivers’ cap from his head and to his side where his trousers were fast joining. 

And only now, did the car itself begin to return to how it had once been. Rust reforming outside, and inside, tears came to the benches, the windows cracked, the engine became coarse, and they were losing speed, both a result of the deteriorating road, and the car’s slow seizing up. 

A vicious lurch knocked Ella around, the sound of metal snapping indicating the collapse of the suspension. Bumps and dips in the dirt road sending the occupants bouncing and jostling inside the darkened, ripped car. 

Ella wouldn’t know it at the time, but their slowed pace was what may have saved her, when a panicked neigh alerted her to the fact that Galahad had lost his hands, and couldn’t properly hold the steering wheel, barely able now to keep it straight. 

Which didn’t matter when a large pothole tore the front wheels from their mounts, sending the front ploughing into the ground, the sudden loss of speed not being transmitted to Ella who was flung from her seat and through where the front window used to be. And mercifully into a soft patch and in the right way to roll to a halt with nothing but a few scratches. 

Pushing herself up to her feet again, she knew she would have need of some smelling salts, or better yet a good cup of herbal tea once she returned home. But before she could do that, she needed to attend to a more immediate matter. 

The time it took for her to reach the remains of her fathers’ car was enough for Galahad to come to, and break open a door to force himself out, just in time as his torso resumed its usual proportions, shaking himself as if to rid himself of a bad sensation. 

“I’m sorry. For putting you through that.” Ella apologised to him, running a hand down his long neck to keep him calm. “I really did forget, got so lost in it all, that I lost track of the time. One moment.” 

Ella reached into the remnants of the car, sifting around in the dark until she came across what she was looking for. “Thought you might want to keep this.” She produced the drivers’ cap that had survived, placing it back on his head for him as she led them down the road, the moonlight enough for her to make her way, her remaining Glass Slipper in her free hand. 

“But it was a wonderful evening I had.” Ella began again after some time, now riding horseback on Galahad to let him pick up his pace. “Even if it ended rather too soon.” 

Ella could have sworn that Galahad made a reply of some kind, but before she could dwell on it, the château was in sight, the end of her wonderful time, and back to the reality of her life. 

Once Galahad was back in his stable, and already sleeping, Ella had barely the time to hide the Slipper in the Rose bushes thanks to the sound of a honking horn, her stepfamily having just returned. 

“There you are. And looking rather cheerful.” Drizella near-spat when Ella made it to the Hallway just as they entered the château. 

“I took a walk in the garden, to cheer myself up.” Ella replied, not exactly lying to them. 

“Tea. And a plate of biscuits.” Anastasia demanded in the name of her nerves and feet. 

“But just who was she?” Drizella altered the course of the topic. “That mystery princess?” 

“Mystery princess?” Lady Tremaine saw fit to enter her daughters discussion. “No, she was a preening interloper, throwing herself at the Prince. Such a spectacle she made of herself.” 

“But he danced with her.” Anastasia added. 

“Yes. It was pity you see. He was, too polite to send her packing in front of everyone you see, so rather than expose us to the wench any further, instead he took her off to the side, to tell her off. The palace guards chasing her away with her refusal to leave.” Lady Tremaine provided her cover for the benefit of her daughters. “But no matter, the Ball was a mere diversion, for the Prince is promised to the Princess Chelina, as the Grand Duke told me himself.” 

“It’s so very unfair.” Drizella still pouted at her lost opportunity. 

“The way of the world.” Lady Tremaine stated coldly. 

[+]

By the time Ella could leave for her attic room, it was past four in the morning, and she knew her stepfamily would be late in waking, just what she needed for her own rest from the same night. But not before she had taken the time to write down all that had happened, as to always have one more reminder of her night with the Apprentice Monarch. 

Each detail Ella recalled she noted down, hoping to have the time to present it cohesively later, but right now she wanted as much written as she could, no detail left out, no minute overlooked. So that when it was complete, it would be as if she were writing it to her parents about the Ball, how it was possible, the mad escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes! Two chapters in one day!? Well this one I already had scripted out so I did start it before I'd posted the previous one. 
> 
> The tricky part here was keeping it different enough from FairyGodRelative's take which itself continued from the previous one-shot, but I think it was done well enough to keep it within the designs of the setting while still being unique. 
> 
> Further chapters will be slower, as I intend to take a breather now, given how much has been put out in such a short time. But don't worry, there is more to come. ^_^


End file.
